


The Visit

by MaiKusakabe



Series: Legacy [3]
Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2016-01-18
Packaged: 2018-05-09 00:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5518349
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaiKusakabe/pseuds/MaiKusakabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sengoku goes to visit Law for the first time since they met.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Necessities

**Author's Note:**

> Christmas is here and so are some updates. Originally I was going to post tomorrow, but given how things have started to go south already, I think I’ll need some comment-shaped cheering up by the time dinner is over. So I decided to post earlier.
> 
> Here is part three. This one is also in chronological order (I wanted to get the tricky beginning sorted before moving on to other things) and will be 3-4 chapters long. The exact length depends on how long the last chapter ends up being.

Law grinned, pocketing his new acquisitions without faltering on his steps as he did. He had learned early on that, while the dome created by his devil fruit powers —he had named it 'room'— was easy to see during the day, the same didn't happen at night. The 'room' had a blue tinge to it, but it did not shine in any way. The relatively poor lighting of the night, even in decently illuminated areas, ensured that no one noticed its presence.

He was suddenly grabbed by his backpack and pulled into an alleyway, a hand covering his mouth at the same time. Instead of thrashing uselessly, Law aimed a kick as strong as he could at his assailant's chest, while he took hold of two fingers of the hand covering his mouth fully intent on breaking them. The kick hit, but it had no effect, and he wasn't any more successful on bending the fingers.

Law was turned around and came face to face with an utterly unimpressed Sengoku.

"Pick-pocketing, really?"

Law bit Sengoku’s hand, aware that it would have no effect, but it had the desired effect and Sengoku removed it and put him down.

Law crossed his arms defensively.

"I need money."

"Already?" Sengoku asked, a little surprised, and Law shrugged. He still had had some money left from the treasure he had kept from Minion, plus the money Sengoku had sent him after he had returned to Marineford. Law's original estimation had been that it would last him easily until December, maybe even January, and it _would_ have if a certain thing hadn’t come up.

"I had to buy clothes," he explained, gesturing at himself as he did.

Sengoku scanned him critically.

"You had a growth spurt, didn't you?"

Law nodded. Now that his body was no longer fighting the Amber Lead Syndrome, he had resumed processes that had stopped long ago. Law would never be as tall as he would have been if he hadn't been sick, but he still hoped to reach a decent height.

"Those look expensive," Sengoku noted, referring to Law's clothes.

Law, arms still crossed, glared defiantly up at him.

"If I want to fit in, I have to dress like them." He didn't have much, though. Not only would he most likely have outgrown these clothes by this time next year, but he needed to be able to travel light. His possessions were limited to the backpack he always carried with himself and a second bag, filled with some more changes of clothes and the things he could do without if he had to disappear.

Sengoku accepted his answer with a nod and brought out his wallet. He handed Law a few bills. Large ones, mostly, he noticed when he took them; one hundred and twenty thousand belis.

"If you need money, just ask. Don't go around committing more crimes than necessary."

Law nodded with a shrug, and decided not to comment on the fact that Sengoku's choice of words implied hr knew Law was —or maybe he just thought would in the future— committing some other crimes.

"Have you eaten?" Sengoku asked after a short silence.

"Not yet."

"Do you know of any good places?" Sengoku gestured to the entry of the alley, and they moved out.

Law absentmindedly thought it was strange that no one had noticed what, for all intents and purposes, had looked like the kidnapping of a kid. Then again, Sengoku hadn't reached his position for no reason.

"A few," Law answered. "Meat or seafood?"

"Seafood," Sengoku answered promptly and, when Law looked at him questioningly, explained: "at Marineford it's almost always meat when you eat with Garp."


	2. Dinner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy New Year, guys! :D
> 
> I’m posting some updates for the occasion :) Now, I know I have comments left to answer, but I haven’t had much time to be online these past few days (the only reason I’m posting anything is because I’ve had my holiday updates ready for over a week). My mom’s been at the hospital for the last four days and, while she’s back home for tonight (she’s asleep now), she has to go back to get an urgent surgery on Sunday. So I haven’t been around, and probably won’t be for a while. Depends on how things turn out :/

Sengoku observed Law as they ate. He wasn't too obvious about it, he didn't want to trigger any more awkwardness than what was already present in the mostly silent way they ate dinner, but he wanted to get to know him.

One detail he hadn't noticed the first time, as overwhelmed and distracted as he had been by everything he had learned, were Law's eating habits. Law's mostly _normal_ eating habits. After years of exposure to Garp and his knowledge of Roger, Sengoku would have expected Law, as a D, to be as much of a black hole as them. He wasn't. Law was eating at a calm pace, with relatively good manners that didn't have people around them turning their heads in horrified astonishment or losing their appetites, and a reasonable amount of food.

However, he did seem to have a quirk, Sengoku noticed. Law hadn't touched the bread that had been brought along with their order.

"You don't like bread?" Sengoku asked, one of his eyebrows going up. _Curious._

"No," Law answered with a small grimace, giving the bread a dark look as if it had offended him personally.

Sengoku had to smile at the childish gesture. It was the first time he saw Law behaving in a way fit for his age.

"Any other eating habit you share with Rosinante?" Sengoku asked, curious, because what were the chances for Rosinante to have found a kid who shared his dislike for bread?

Law grimaced again.

"No. He liked _umeboshi_." He said it with such disgust that Sengoku couldn't help but laugh.

Law glared at him, but he must have decided it wasn’t worth yelling at him or argue, because he changed the topic.

“So,” he started casually. Too casually, “what are you doing here?”

“I need a reason to be here?”

The look Law directed at him was impressive. Usually, it was Sengoku who looked at people like they were idiots for something they had said, it was uncommon to have that look aimed at him. Law’s version of it was one of the best he had seen, and Sengoku briefly wondered how many of these same looks had been aimed at Rosinante.

Sengoku looked pointedly around.

“Later.”

“Is it bad?” Law asked seriously, lowering his fork back onto his plate.

Sengoku shook his head.

“No. Just… private.” He didn’t add that he didn’t know how Law would react to it, which was the main reason he wanted to wait.

Law nodded.

“What will you do about Vergo?”

Sengoku sighed. Couldn’t he ask about something less delicate? At least, about this, he had an idea of Law’s possible reaction, so he decided to answer.

“I’ll keep an eye on him. If I remove him, Doflamingo will simply send someone else, and there isn’t any proof that he _is_ a spy.” He added this last bit more carefully, though he didn’t mention his third reason: that Doflamingo had the Tenryuubito by the balls —according to the information Rosinante had given him— and Sengoku wouldn’t put it past them to cover Vergo if Doflamingo threatened them.

Law frowned, but he nodded reluctantly.

“You only have my word to prove it.”

That was another thing. Law was a kid, and he had been a pirate. While most people would excuse his stint as a pirate due to the circumstances in which he had joined the Donquixote Pirates, his credibility would be even more questioned than simply due to his age.

“I’m thinking about setting Garp on him,” Sengoku confessed in an attempt to lighten the mood and because he had considered the possibility.

That caught Law’s attention, and an interested look crossed his eyes.

“How?”

“Vergo is a very promising fighter. If I tell Garp, he will want to test him.”

Law didn’t laugh, but a smirk crossed his face. A slightly creepy smirk, Sengoku noticed, and he wouldn’t be surprised if that expression scared a lot of people in the future.

“If you do, record it. I want to see.”


	3. Memories

Law dropped his two bags —his only possessions aside from what he had on his person, Sengoku noted with some bitterness at the thought that Law just _couldn’t_ own more things, like a normal kid his age— on the second bed of the room Sengoku had rented for the duration of his stay.

“You gonna tell me what are you doing here?” Law asked brusquely, rudely, when he turned around with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Today is your birthday, isn’t it?”

Law looked surprised, blinking up at Sengoku as if that was the last thing he had expected, and Sengoku had the nagging feeling that Law may have forgotten the date. Before Law could react, and probably grow defensive, Sengoku took out the envelope he had been carrying in his coat pocket since he left Marineford and offered it to Law.

Law raised his eyebrows, the gesture barely noticeable below his hat.

“You bought me a birthday present?” he asked skeptically.

“No.”

“Then?”

“Just open it and see for yourself.”

Law shrugged and reached out, taking the envelope from Sengoku’s hand and opening it with no hesitation.

Law froze when he pulled out its contents.

Sengoku didn’t comment when Law’s lower lip wobbled, nor when his hands trembled as he passed from one picture to the next. Law’s eyes grew wet, and Sengoku knew for sure then that Law hadn’t seen his family’s faces since Flevance.

It wasn’t much, just copies of the official pictures from the files: his father serious but not grim, his mother smiling softly and his sister grinning widely. They were all the same everything that was left of Law’s family, because Flevance had been burned to the ground and all the bodies disposed of in that same manner.

Law moved to the bed, walking blindly with his eyes glued to the pictures, and sat heavily on the mattress. Sengoku left a pack of tissues next to him and went to unpack the suitcase he had dropped off in the room earlier that afternoon.

He didn’t comment on the muted sniffles and sobs.

Finally, when Sengoku was done placing his few clothes in the closet, he turned to see Law had put the pictures to one side and was wiping his eyes on a sodden tissue.

“I didn’t put them there,” Sengoku started, unsure of how this conversation would go, “but I also have a couple pictures of Rosinante.”

Law’s head snapped up.

“Show me,” he demanded, though he didn’t sound nearly as brusque as he had earlier.

Sengoku walked to Law’s bed and sat by his side, on the opposite side to the pictures.

He had brought two more, and took them out now. He didn’t like the first one much, because there were too many bitter memories and feelings associated with it, but that was how Law remembered Rosinante, and so Sengoku had brought it.

He handed it to Law.

“We took that one after he had completed his disguise. He spent a long time coming up with it.”

In the picture, Rosinante stood in the middle of an empty warehouse they had turned into a provisional base while he prepared to return to Doflamingo’s side, because being anywhere near a marine base might have endangered his cover as a pirate. Rosinante stood with his arms spread wide, the black feathered coat thrown over his shoulders, red hood on and the recently healed tattoos a stark contrast against the skin of his face.

“He always set that stupid coat on fire,” Law commented with a tiny, sad smile on his lips, and Sengoku had to snort.

“I’m not surprised. He used to set his uniform on fire, too.”

Law looked up at him.

“He did? Did he have a coat, too?”

“No,” Sengoku answered, and smiled softly at the memories the topic brought. “The winter uniform could pass, but nobody understood how he could set on fire the regular, sleeveless uniform too.”

Law gave him a surprised, slightly wide eyed look. Then his lips pulled up, and much to Sengoku’s surprise he chuckled. It was short, barely a breath, but it rang with amusement and no trace of bitterness. It was a good sound, and it made Law appear his age.

“What’s the other picture?” Law asked a moment later. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but he wasn’t frowning either, and Sengoku could tell Law was more relaxed than he had been all evening.

Sengoku handed the picture over silently. He had debated a lot on that one. He had wanted to bring a picture of Rosinante before the Donquixote Pirates, but deciding which one had been more difficult than expected. Sengoku had many pictures to choose from. He had discarded the ones where Rosinante appeared in his marine uniform because while Law knew and accepted that Rosinante had been a marine, Sengoku thought it would be best not to remind Law of it so openly.

It the picture, Rosinante grinned widely, sat precariously balanced on a railing that overlooked Marineford where he liked to sit despite the many accidents he had there, dressed in jeans and a ridiculous pink t-shirt with two teddy bears painted on it.

“He looked almost normal,” Law commented, not really unkindly.

Sengoku nodded.


End file.
